Unwillingly
by TheyCallMeDanger
Summary: As if the cold Boston air wasn't enough to knock someone into their senses. It was a seven minute walk from work to her apartment. Just. Seven. Minutes. The same walk, the same routine down the baron city streets. It was just one fucking alley. Standard shit. Real standard.


**A/N- I do not own The Boondock Saints or any of the characters in this story other than my own, those belong to Troy Duffy. This is my second Boondock Saints fict ( the other is a tiny one shot if anyone would like me to put it up, just let me know in the comments) I'm actually really proud of this one. Reviews are /always/ well received and welcome! Thanks all!**

Chapter 1: Meeting In The Warehouse

It was always so fucking cold.

It was misting on top of everything. As if the cold Boston air wasn't enough to knock someone into their senses. It was a seven minute walk from work to her apartment. Just. Seven. Minutes. The same walk, the same routine down the baron city streets. It was just one fucking alley. Standard shit. Real standard.

Her head was lost in thought, going over what she was going to eat when she got home and if she had remembered to feed Zellie before she had left. 4 blocks left before she could strip off her heavy coat and slip into something a lot more appealing; like maybe flannel pajamas. There wasn't a worry in her mind out of the ordinary as she passed in the alley beside an old abandoned building. It had used to be some kind of factory from what she has heard. This day was no different...until she was met face to face with a man and a gun.

" What the fuck!" Eyes darker than mud widened and a smile fit for a lunatic glazed their face, lank brown hair and a full beard.

Skittering backwards, she barreled into some trashcans, the sound echoed through the empty alleyway.

" FUCK." The man hissed, walking forward, gun pointed at her face.

" Get up and follow me!" He pointed the gun off to the abandoned warehouse.

Slowly getting to her feet, she willed herself to keep moving, keep thinking...If this asshole was going to rob or rape her then she would want to remember every detail. Her legs trembled, but she quickly found some sense of balance.

A musty smell encompassed her as she entered the building, little streaks of light shone down through the ceiling. There was an almost eerie sort of quiet through the place.

" Look, if it's money you want-" she began, she didn't have much on her but there was an ATM just down the street, maybe she could get help there.

" I don't want your fucking money, I just want you to be quiet!" His voice sounded manical, but not that of a killer, but you there was really no way of knowing for sure. She could feel him prodding her between her shoulders with the barrel of the gun.

" Aye Rocco, where you at? This place is as empty as-" someone else called from somewhere near, causing the man to jump.

The gun landed on the ground, sliding under her legs. Immediately she grabbed it and pointed it at the man that had previously had her.

" Well fuck. Listen-"

" Get the fuck on the ground. Right now." She hissed at him.

" Honey, do you even know how to shoot one of those things?"

" Don't talk."

" Rocco, is it so fuckin' hard to answer me?" There was that thick Irish accent again and this time it was followed by a figure approaching out of darkness.

A dark pair of blue jeans and a black pea coat covered the new approacher. Shaggy black hair and strikingly blue eyes analyzed them swiftly.

" Fuck, Conn!" He called over his shoulder.

" The fuck ya think yer doin' ma'am?" He asked almost politely but his gun was pointing right at her.

" Can you two seriously not fucking keep a look out?" A blonde said, emerging, his voice just as thickly accented as the other.

As soon as he saw what was going on, he too had his gun pointed at her.

" Look, we don't want to have to shoot you love, but-"

" And I don't want to shoot anyone either, I don't know why this numb nuts had me at gunpoint! If you guys want money, I have it!" She responded, gun shifting nervously in her hands.

" Wait a second...money? We don't want- wait Rocco, why the fuck did you have a gun on her in the first place?" The blonde growled.

" I went to check the streets and she surprised me, she was making a lot noise so I took her in here..."

" At fucking gun point you asshole! How did she even get the gun?" The dark haired man yelled at him.

" Easy there Murph. Listen dear, we don't want to shoot you or take your money. We were just making sure this place was safe and numbskull over there overreacted. Now can you give me the gun?" A tattoo ran up the hand that he was offering to her.

Realization dawned on her, and it was like the whole city had been going through a power outage and at that very moment, all the lights decided to kick back on.

" Oh. Oh. OH. You're Rocco, used to be a mafia underling. You two...you're The Saints." They had to be. Who else would be hanging out with Rocco and toting guns when everyone else from his sinct had been methodically killed. Besides, the two men with guns on her looked an awful lot like the sketched "Wanted" posters she had seen.

" Goddammit, this is all your fucking fault." They both bellowed at Rocco.

There was no time for anymore intricacies because a bullet went flying through the air, barely grazing her cheek, but the pain was immediate.

" Go! GO! MURPHY!" The blond said shoving the other while Rocco was handed another gun and stood with it blazing.

" Follow me, you shouldn't be here." Murphy ushered her towards the exit they had come from.

" Going somewhere so soon?" A tall man with an accent asked, smile resembling a shark.

Murphy pushed her farther behind him before he raised his gun to fire.

" If you even raise that gun, I will kill the girl. You saints don't want innocent blood to stain your reputation, now do you?"

Murphy slowly began to lower his gun, but she took advantage of the situation. It was life or death. She pointed her gun towards his legs in clandestine and shot twice, the feeling was terrifying as well as his screams.

" You bitch!" His gun came up, but he wasn't as fast as Murphy who sealed his fate with two bullets.

" I can't believe you fuckin' did that." He whistled softly before shoving the door open to peer outside.

" Coast is clear, c'mon love."

As soon as they had winded almost all the way around town, they stopped at a small duplex.

" Here we are, what was your name again? I didn't catch it, sorry."

" It's Aislinn McArthur."

" A good Irish name. Good, good. I like that." He murmured.


End file.
